


Behind Closed Doors

by FalseProphet (Batmanthegroomer)



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 07:22:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5576530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batmanthegroomer/pseuds/FalseProphet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>General Hux summons Captain Phasma to hear her report on FN-2187. </p><p>(Short ficlet)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behind Closed Doors

Phasma stopped as she arrived at her destination. Her eyes narrowed behind her helm, in the glow of her HUD. She pursed her lips into a thin line, then curled the edges in a groan of disgust. The door before her was clearly locked, a red light indicating no one was permitted entrance; nor were those inside open to outside communication. She understood. She wished she didn't, but she knew Hux like no-one else. She understood loud and clear.

She shifted her weight and turned away from the door. She permitted herself a moment to lean back against the wall. Slightly unprofessional--perhaps--but far more so than what was happening just feet to her right. Her troops respected her for her prowess, for the fear she instilled in them with her skill and abilities. They would not reflect long on a moment's pause for their captain. Hux's troops on the other hand...

There were soundproofed rooms on all Star Destroyers. They were rooms used for interrogations, for delicate negotations and need-to-know conferences. Hux could not have chosen one of those rooms, could he? No. He had a deep seeded masochistic need for Phasma to have all the ammo she needed to fire him down, to turn him to rubble. It had started with soft hints, strange glances, and had escalated into this perversion. A part of him lived for Phasma to know these things about him and she could not wrap her head around it. If he wished only to cause her momentary discomfort, to see or hear her obvious disgust for his activities, he needn't go to such lengths.

Phasma closed her eyes slowly as the noises grew louder. Even from behind the veil of her helm she could hear the excursion far better than she wanted to. Heavy breathing, loud groaning, the screaming of metal grating against metal. No names were ever uttered--or numbers, as the case often was--but she supposed that was part of Hux's game. Once or twice she had permitted herself the curiosity to try and distinguish voices. Had Hux cried out or was that the voice of his chosen escort? Was the wimpering a spent General or an overwhelmed trooper, denied these pleasure except at Hux's hands?

To think, Hux accused Phasma of playing favorites. If that was not what one would call this 'hobby', Phasma was not sure she understood what playing favorites meant.

The speed inside the room picked up and Phasma counted her blessings that they were almost finished. Hux had certainly planned for Phasma to hear the cresendo. It was very like him, especially when he was jealous of a recent success. He was often jealous. He outranked Phasma--a fact which he never forgot--but it never seemed enough for him. Each victory she achieved, even those under his order, seemed to frighten him. As if every mark on her record meant a lowering of his rank. They were presented as a single, unified unit and yet seemed to be warring with one another. Phasma had no desire for promotion. She was a captain, she was where she needed to be. She did enjoy that Hux had not figured that out about her even after so many years.

Phasma's HUD alerted her to a small approaching sentry group. She watched them near the corner and sighed, reaching up to tap on her communicator.

"This corridor is secure. Alter your route." 

"Of course, Captain, at once." 

Her troops did not need telling twice. She watched their indicators on her map as they stopped, turned and continued their route elsewhere. She knew Hux trusted her to keep his privacy, whatever was left of it. They were never interrupted by his troops, only Phasma's. She had once or twice followed through to discover that Hux had personally re-scheduled troops to ensure these specific run-ins. She'd given up checking. If Hux wanted to keep it secret, he would have. She wouldn't give him the pleasure of hearing she'd gone snooping. She might mention it, someday, but it was never relevant. She was a woman of few spoken words and until the time came to confront the General about his tampering, she would keep it to herself.

She moved away from the wall, lifting pale eyebrows as the room next to her grew quiet. Clean up was never a long process, which made Phasma squirm. She did not want to envision how Hux initiated these trysts, nor what it was doing to the state of his troops. Most of them had full duties ahead of them. Could Hux not have picked troops off-duty so they could at least... wash before returning to their rounds? Phasma was glad her helm concealed her rising disgust. She did not want Hux to know it still got under her skin, still churned her stomach.

Within a few seconds the door opened unceremoniously. The exiting trooper did not notice Phasma until he was nearly through the door. His helm jerked and he offered a sloppy salute. His shoulders rose and clattered with still heavy breathing. 

"Captain." He barked automatically, his voice--though muffled--was clearly hoarse and spent. 

Phasma fought the twitch in her eye though he could not see it; he was one of her own. She gave a curt nod and the trooper moved down the hall. Phasma told herself to look away, not to study his retreat, but she couldn't avert her eyes. Weak in the knees, unsteady, uncomfortable and tired. Such physical exercises were unecessary and detrimental to a trooper's training. The pumping of blood and the pounding of a heart should mean only one thing. Hux was only confusing them. Phasma turned into the room.

Hux sat at his desk, back to the large window and a blanket of stars. His clothing was pressed, buttoned and firmly in place. His hair had been quickly adjusted and looked unruffled. His breathing was painstakingly maintained. The only give-away was the flush in his cheeks, bright red against his pale flesh. He could not hide that, not from Phasma and not from any observer. Phasma was not sure why he bothered to try and look put together; they both knew she knew what he'd been doing.

"You certainly took your time." Hux sighed, using the opportunity to fully empty and refill his lungs. 

"I arrived fifteen minutes ago." Phasma responded, voice flat. She came to stand in front of his desk. 

"If you had arrived precisely when I had called for you, I would not have had to fill my time with other important matters." Hux rounded quickly, steepling his fingers at his chin.

"Important matters." Phasma parroted. "Your desk is askew."

"Did you do as I asked?" Hux's voice was sharp now, irritated. He tried to hide a glance down at the legs of his desk.

"I did." 

"And?" Hux pressed, daring to look indignant. He met Phasma's eyes through her helm.

"Trooper FN-2187 was unable to account for his actions on Jakku. After extensive physical examinations no ailments were found. I questioned him myself and could find no suggestion of tampering or mental abornmality. He has been ordered to reconditioning. After reviewing his file and ss this is his first offense I have every confidence he will not be a repeat offender." 

"Kylo Ren disagrees." Hux nearly purred. "He claimed you were unaware of this oversight until he brought it to your attention."

"Kylo Ren misspoke. I was immediately notified that FN-2187 did not fire when instructed to do so. I was alerted prior to a spike in his blood pressure not shared among my troops. FN-2187 was on my radar from the moment we opened fire."

"And you did nothing? You let him continue? What if he had jeprodized our whole mission?"

"If a single inexperienced trooper flailing through a panic attack is enough to jeprodize a mission, I suggest Leader Snoke be informed. I was under the distinct impression our faith was in Kylo Ren's ability to handle anything the Resistance could throw at him."

Phasma tilted her head back slightly, fixing Hux with a stare she knew he could read. Temporarily silenced he turned his head and scoffed.

"Shows how little you are aware of what goes on in the upper ranks of the First Order. You'd do well to remember your place."

"Is that what you tell the troopers you dismiss after these little... excursions of yours."

"What I do behind closed doors is not up for discussion."

Phasma moved forward slightly. She watched as Hux fought the urge to recoil at her advance. She slowly pressed her gloved palms to the desk, ignoring evaporating sweat and... a stain or two. She leaned forward and tilted her helm to fix Hux with an unwavering glare.

"When my troopers are involved, it becomes my discussion."

"Noticed that, did you?" Hux whispered.

"I turn a blind eye to your abuse of power within your own ranks, Hux. If you wish to remain intact you will not repeat this mistake."

"Strong words for a woman who hides behind a helmet. You wouldn't dare lift a finger against me."

"There is more than one way to castrate a man."

Hux stiffened. He sneered. 

"Father has long come to peace with the fact that I will provide him no grandchildren. Imagine his reaction when he discovers his son has no interest in the matter either."

Hux stood and slammed his hands down onto the desk in mimicry of Phasma's position. 

"We're through here!" 

"Yes, we are." Phasma stood. The siblings regarded each other a moment more before Phasma turned on her heel. Hux sat down heavily, breathing in quick, short gasps. His attention was quickly drawn away by a light flickering on the command console of his desk. He took a slow breath and clicked on his communicator.

"This is General Hux. Proceed."

"It was suggested that you might know how to welcome our prisoner." Kylo Ren's heavily modified voice crackled over the communicator. "Seems our troopers have done a poor job of extending the hospitality of the First Order."

"I see. I am on my way."


End file.
